“Shh.” She took his arm and pulled him into the room with her, quietly closing the door behind them. “I will tell you, but keep your voice down. Why are you here, by the way?”
“Invited to dinner, remember? Came upstairs to look in on you and Rosa on the pretext of needing the water closet. I certainly didn’t expect to find you—or myself—in here.”
“I have good reason.”
“I’m listening.”
“I overheard Mr. Dalby talking to someone earlier—I don’t know who.” Anne repeated the gist of what she’d heard and then began looking into drawers and cupboards.
“And you think he hid ... what?” Dr. Finch asked.
“An adulterated bottle of medicine. Or outright poison—whatever he used.” She continued her search. “And instead of disposing of it, he hid it, and if the inquest had returned a murder verdict, or if Katherine changed her mind about a postmortem, he planned to make sure the bottle was found in someone else’s room—meaning, in my room.”
“Thunder and turf. I hope you’re wrong.”
She opened the drawer of his side table. Nothing. “I want to find it before he can dispose of the evidence ... or poison anyone else.”
“Anne, you are not thinking clearly. You donotwant to have that bottle on your person—if it exists. Forgive me, but we don’t know for certain. If anyone except me caught you sneaking about with such a thing, it would be quite condemning. And if heiscapable of poisoning his own aunt, what do you think he might do to you if he finds you in here,or discovers you have evidence against him? Now, let’s get out of here before we are caught where we should not be.”
Footsteps on the stairs.
Anne gasped. Their gazes met, and she saw his eyes widen with worry.
“This way,” she whispered, opening the door to Mr. Dalby’s closet and dressing room. The door let out into the side corridor not far from the water closet and her reading nook. But if the person coming up was headed to the water closet instead of his or her bedchamber? Anne and Dr. Finch would be caught coming out of Mr. Dalby’s dressing room.
Anne tentatively opened the outer door, which creaked. They both froze, wincing and waiting. The footsteps in the main corridor paused.
If whoever it was came around the corner and found them there, what excuse could they give for being at the end of that corridor, past the water closet? The only door down there besides Mr. Dalby’s dressing room was the little window-seat alcove she’d claimed as her own. Better to be found there than in Mr. Dalby’s private quarters, she decided.
Anne pulled Dr. Finch into that tiny room and behind its right-hand door, leaving it at an angle, the left-hand door fully open. Just as Jasper said he did as a lad when he wanted to hide.
What she had not counted on was the doctor’s size. It had been one thing to conceal herself there—but two adults?
The footsteps rounded the corner.
Trying to fit behind the door, Dr. Finch crowded close to Anne, nearly pressing her to the wall. The two stood facing each other, chin to nose.
By the light coming in through the windows, Anne saw him put a finger to his lips. Anne could not have spoken had she tried, her thumping heart seemingly lodged in her throat. His hands went to her waist, as if to hold them both steady,for which Anne was grateful, as her knees suddenly felt wobbly. Her hands were trapped against his chest between them, and he dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “Shh...”
His nearness felt protective, not inappropriate. His tall, strong body, his warmth and smell of vanilla enveloped her.
The footsteps came closer... and seemed to stop just outside the alcove doors.
Anne held her breath and prayed, while the two of them stood pressed together, hearts pounding, listening. His hands around her waist tightened.
A moment passed, then another. At last the footsteps turned back the way they had come.
Anne and Dr. Finch released ragged breaths as they waited a few moments longer. Finally he took her hand and tentatively led her from the alcove.
All was quiet.
Had whoever it was gone into his or her own room or returned downstairs?
Anne didn’t know, but Dr. Finch led her back to her room. He whispered, “Don’t go into Dalby’s room again, all right? I won’t be able to sleep unless you promise.”
“I promise.”
“Will I still see you downstairs for dinner?”
